The Color of a Leader
by moevie
Summary: Two leaders face the Strike in different ways. How does Spot Conlon compare to Jack Kelly. For the Newsies Paps Selling Competition. Task 2 Colors Red, Blue and Violet (Anger, Depression, Romance) 773 Words


"I ain't scared a no turf!" Finch had said "It's just Spot Conlon makes me a little jittery."

Everyone was scared of Brooklyn. They walked around wearing red for a reason and that's the way Spot liked it. Red like the bricks Brooklyn was made from. Red like the blood they would spill if provoked, and red like fire. Fire was an uncontrollable force. Eating and destroying everything in its path. Spot associated himself with fire. It was one of his favorite elements. It also kept people warm when they thought they could control in. These were mostly in burned out garbage cans. Ever since he was a young kid, he would stand around these open fire barrels and watch the flames as it licked up the night air. It was home to him, those back alley streets of New York. Those men standing around with that lost expression in their eyes. That's why he needed to become red, to see red wherever he went. To always remind himself to protect what was his. To never let that same expression of blue seep into his eyes.

Now red was Spot's favorite color and he carried it around like a badge of honor. He was the leader of Brooklyn and as such he needed to be the tough one, even if he didn't always feel like he was. His persona would remain. Spot was smart, never stepping into a fight that wasn't backed up or that he couldn't win. He didn't come this far by being dumb.

This chip on his shoulder had cost him dearly in the past. Friendships, but who needs friends eh, being leader was enough for him. Being respected was enough for him, Spot would say. Spot also had broken so many bones that he lost count. However he was the toughest guy in Brooklyn, and if you asked him he was the toughest guy in all of New York.

"Them Brooklyn guys is big!" That's just the way he liked it, and so his army dressed in red to. All with chips the size of their city on their shoulders. Spot found it strange that the other newsies, especially when going to the strike meeting, or standing in the square did not clothe themselves in similar colors. Did not have a uniform for their battalions. Didn't they want to stand together? To let Pulitzer know that they were an army marching to war!

Then Spot realized that even though they were going to war, Jack had no intentions of wanting a fight. He wanted to use words, thoughts, and ideas. Thinking the pen was mightier than the fist. No wonder they got beat! Spot made a mental note never to walk into a fight without wearing his signature red color. It would hide him and transform him all at once. Transform him into the fighting machine that he was.

Jack had been around a long time. He had grown up a newsie, living on the streets. Jack had seen Spot, known him and the choices that he made. Spot was defiantly a Brooklyn boy. It wasn't hard to see, anyone with eyes could tell that the red brick that was so prevalent in the architecture ran through those boys' veins. Jack wanted to take a different approach. Sure he felt all the emotions that the Brooklyn boys felt, but he wanted to work smarter, wanted to get his boys out without a fight. So he dressed carefully in soft colors that would hopefully get his point across. Jack was an artist and so understood colors in a way no one else saw. He didn't think his personality reflected blue, but it sure matched his eyes and hair. He also noted how it matched Katherine's soft dress.

Katherine's colors were bright and effervescent. Since meeting him, the last time they had talked she had softened. It was not lost on Jack that she had pulled the violets out of her wardrobe. He would say it was all due to him and he would be right. So a blue shirt it would be. Blue and violet matched and just looking into Katherine's eyes she was also matching this color. He smiled to himself as he had drawn out this new emotion in her and not one of the other boys she had be hanging around lately.

Jack also wanted his newsies, his boys to have a choice. Spot had an infantry; Jack wanted to lead a people of freedom. Dress in whatever reflected them.

Now it was all left up to Pulitzer. Both Spot and Jack wondered what he would say.


End file.
